


In the Blink of an Eye

by sbstevenson2



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-11-24 03:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18160811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sbstevenson2/pseuds/sbstevenson2
Summary: Robin Locksley is the definition of a nerdy thirteen year old boy. When his friends leave his birthday party without telling him, he makes a wish out of anger and heartbreak that he never thought would come true. Based on the movie 13 Going on 30. Written for OQ Movie Week 2019.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, here we go! This is based off the movie 13 Going on 30, but with a little gender role reversal. This was a lot of fun to write, and I hope y’all enjoy it!
> 
> {*************************}

“Robin.”

He hears his name being called from somewhere in the house. Whose voice is that though?

“Mum?” he mumbles sleepily, rolling over into the softness of his pillow. He breathes in, scrunching his brow as he thinks the laundry detergent smells different. She must’ve changed it, maybe it was on sale at the grocery store.

“Robin!” he hears shouted again. It’s a woman, he knows that, but that is  _ definitely _ not his mother’s sweet voice. It’s screechy and mean. 

Rolling out of bed, he stretches his back, twisting side to side. He yawns, running a hand through his hair as he makes his way to the bathroom. 

He walks past the mirror in his bedroom, catching a glimpse of himself, and... wait. “What the bloody hell?!” he exclaims worriedly, eyes widening as he leans closer to the mirror. His hand comes up, running over the cheeks and nose he sees reflected in the mirror. He can feel the sensation on his skin, so he knows it’s his face he’s looking at. Robin makes a silly face, opening his mouth wide and sticking his tongue out, making sure the reflection does the same thing. Taking a small step back, fear and confusion swirl in Robin’s concerned, blue eyes.

He’s… an adult. A good looking dude, but what in the hell is happening? He just turned thirteen yesterday, this can’t be right. Robin runs a hand over his jaw, covered in scruffy facial hair, and, hmm, that’s interesting. His hand moves down, feeling across his firm abdomen. He’s in shape, he’ll give himself that, so that’s cool. Looking around the room, making sure no one is coming, he pulls back the band of his gray sweatpants, peering inside with one eye closed.

Impressive, he thinks, looking at his member all grown up down there. Definitely not thirteen. Whose body is this, though? What is  _ happening _ ?

“Mum?!” he calls out frantically, knowing if anyone can solve this mystery, it’s her. He stumbles out of the bedroom and into a long hallway. He looks around, noticing pictures hanging on the wall. It’s all artwork, no photographs of anyone, completely different than the home he grew up in. His mum always kept family portraits and school photos on the walls, updating them every school year when the newest portraits were taken. 

“Robin?” he hears the lady’s voice again, this time closer. 

He panics, darting into the living room. There’s a pile of mail on the coffee table and he sinks to his knees, rummaging through them. “Robin Locksley, Robin Locksley,” he reads off each piece of mail. “Robin Lock— I live here,” he breathes out, bringing a hand up to swipe at the back of his neck. He lowers his hand down, pinching the bridge of his nose as his mind races, trying to figure out what is going on. 

“Robin?!”

He turns, seeing a woman - tan skin and long, dark hair - standing there looking at him with eyebrows raised in that way his mum always does to his dad when he makes a comment she thinks is dumb. He furrows his brow and tilts his head. “Y-yes?”

The lady huffs, seeming irritated as she rolls her eyes. “Are you going to work today or are you just going to lounge around like some kind of slob?”

Well, then. She’s not very nice, is she?

“Work?” he murmurs, “Uh, yes,” he says, straightening up, trying to act like the adult he apparently is. “Yes, I am going to work today.”

The woman rolls her eyes once more, fixing the diamond encrusted watch on her wrist. She spins and grabs a briefcase from a little bench in the entryway, saying, “Good. I’m not dating a loser who stays home. Go to work, and remember we have dinner plans tonight with Johnathan,” before slamming the door shut. 

He sits there for a few minutes, trying to understand what is happening. Pushing himself from the ground, Robin walks slowly around the large apartment. He meanders over to one of the windows in the living room, looking out at the skyline before him. Definitely not in Storybrooke anymore; he’d recognize those New York skyscrapers anywhere. The sun is still high in the sky, casting the whole city in a bright light. Puffing out his cheeks with breath, he turns, walking to the next room. It’s the kitchen, and he suddenly realizes he’s hungry. He doesn’t know how to cook, though, his mum always did that, so he just prays there’s Pop Tarts or something he can munch on. 

No Pop Tarts, he guesses adults don’t eat those? He does find a jar of peanut butter, though, and a loaf of bread, so he figures that’ll be good enough. 

He takes it to the couch, remembering with a small smile that there’s no parent there to yell at him for eating in the living room, and thinks about how this could have happened. 

Searching through his memory, he remembers coming home from school on Friday, talking to his parents about his party the next day and… suddenly, it hits him. His thirteenth birthday party, which to him was just yesterday. That has to be it. 

_ “Thanks for coming guys!” he says as he opens the front door, a tiny lisp evident because of his new braces. “The party is downstairs.” _

_ He’d invited his new friend, Will Scarlett, the coolest boy in school. He plays football and has an older sister than can drive them places. They’re partners on a science project at school, though admittedly, he’s had to do most of the work because Will isn’t that smart and he’s busy with football practice. He’d seemed excited to come to Robin’s birthday, though, when he told him about it. He asked if Regina, Robin’s best friend, was going to be there and if he could bring some friends too. _

_ Robin had, of course, agreed. He’d never really had friends besides Regina, so it was fun to have other people around.  _

_ Will showed up with his group of friends - there was Tucker, Alan, and John. And he’d even brought some girls - the ones he knew Regina had just become friends with when she made it onto the cheerleading squad last month - Kathryn, Emma, and Mary-Margaret.  _

_ He knew Regina would be so excited to see all her new friends, and he couldn’t wait for her to get there. Having the new people around was cool, but Regina was his best friend, and he wanted her there more than anyone else. They always did everything together. Sure, she’d been super busy lately since becoming a cheerleader, but his mum assured him that once football season was over, she’d be back to hanging out with him every day, playing video games and doing science experiments (Well, okay, she always sat back and read Apples Magazine while he did the experiment, but she was there with him, at least).  _

_ The group all make their way downstairs where Robin’s mum had set up a table with snacks on it, and there was a boombox playing the latest Michael Jackson songs. Will and his friends were all standing around, drinking the punch he’d made last night. No one was really talking, but he thinks maybe that’s just because they’ve never been to his house before. _

_ “Do you guys want a tour of my house?” he asks nervously, setting his plate of Bagel Bites and Cheetos down. _

_ “Uh,” says Will, looking around at his other friends. “That’s okay. Say, where’s Regina?” _

_ “Here I am!” he hears her say gleefully, making her way down the steps.  _

_ His face lights up, always happy to see her. She looks pretty today, she’s been wearing more makeup this school year, and she’s learned how to do her hair like Madonna and Cyndi Lauper, too. It’s pulled to the side today in a frizzy ponytail and she’s got on her bright leggings and denim skirt.  _

_ Everyone else at the party turns, greeting her happily. Will makes his way over to her, wrapping an arm around Regina’s shoulders and handing her his cup of punch. _

_ Odd, that he has his arm around her. Regina doesn’t date or hang out with boys, not any boys other than him anyway. She’s smiling at Will though like the girls do in movies, and it makes him uncomfortable.  _

_ She’s been acting strange ever since she became a cheerleader, hasn’t been over to his house that much (weird, since her house is right next door), so he’s not sure exactly what is going on in her life anymore, but he’s just glad she’s here.  _

_ “Hey, Regina,” he says with a smile, walking up to her and handing her a leopard print slap bracelet. They’re one of the party favors his mum insisted they have since he had friends coming over this year, and Robin had saved the leopard one just for her. He knew she’d love it.  _

_ “Hey, Robin,” she greets, giving him a small, tight smile as she takes the bracelet. She glances down at it, then over at Will’s empty wrist (he said he was going to wait to put it on later) before sighing and placing it around her wrist.  _

_ The party is awkward; he’s dancing to Thriller, trying to get everyone else to join along, but they’re all looking at him like he’s crazy.  _

_ The girls are all fawning over Regina, complimenting her necklaces and twirling her hair. The guys are sitting on the couch, lowly talking about something that he can’t hear.  _

_ Will stands, walking over to whisper something in Regina’s ear. She looks sad at first, which worries Robin, but then she takes a deep breath and smiles up at the fourteen year old (he’s so cool, being older than them - he’s supposed to be in the grade above theirs but he got held back one year for not passing), nodding her head.  _

_ She makes her way over to Robin on the other side of the room, and he whispers to her, “This party’s so lame, Regina. They’re not having fun.” _

_ Regina smiles, sitting next to him on some old milk crates they’d added cushioned seats to one summer with his mom. “Sure they are, they’re just different from you,” she tells him, saying they don’t dance around and act goofy. “They play games though.” _

_ “Games?” _

_ “Yeah!” she says loudly, catching the attention of everyone else. “Let’s play a game!” _

_ Everyone joins them, excitedly asking Regina what they’re going to play. Robin sits back, watching as she takes charge, explaining the rules of Seven Minutes in Heaven. His eyes widen when she says you get to go in the closet for seven minutes and do whatever you want with the other person.  _

_ They all partner up, deciding who is going to go with whom, but he quickly realizes that there’s three guys and three girls not including him. “Someone will just have to go twice,” Tucker says, smirking over at Regina. “And I think birthday boy should go in first!” _

_ Robin is nervous; he’s never done this before. He knows he’s expected to kiss whoever comes in there, but he’s never done that. Well, him and Regina did kiss one time when they were six and were playing ‘Marriage Day’ (an afternoon they pretended to get married, him dressed in a little black suit his mum bought his for Easter and her in a white summer dress), but that doesn’t count.  _

_ “Me?” he asks, pulling at the collar of his t-shirt.  _

_ “Yeah!” Will exclaims, clapping him on the shoulder as he pushes him into the closet. He leans in, whispering, “And Regina wants to be your partner.” _

_ His heart just about explodes. She’s the prettiest girl in the whole school and his best friend. He’s found himself lately wondering what it would be like to kiss her, or to ask her on a date, but he didn’t think she felt the same way.  _

_ “Oh,” Will says, taking a step back, “And before I forget, do you have the assignment for science class?” _

_ They’d had another project, and Robin had, once again, done all the research while Will was at football practice. “Yeah,” he nods happily, jutting his chin toward the opposite side of the room, “It’s on top of the TV!” _

_ “Cool,” Will beams, giving Robin a friendly punch to the shoulder. “Have fun in there!” _

_ Robin sits down in the darkness of the closet. It’s a storage closet actually, larger than the one in his bedroom. It houses all the toys he hasn’t played with since he was a kid and his family’s boxes of Christmas decorations.  _

_ His lips twist, looking around the room. He can’t see much, there’s only a sliver of light coming in from underneath the closed door. He’s been in there a while though, he thought Regina would be in by now. He wrings his hands together, thinking of what it might be like to kiss her. For real this time.  _

_ Robin licks his lips, wondering why it’s taking so long. Maybe she’s nervous. Maybe she’s chewing on a mint and wants to swallow it before she comes in.  _

_ After a while, his face falls. He has a bad feeling about this. He realizes he doesn’t hear anyone talking in the basement, so he stands, turning the handle on the closet door.  _

_ When he opens it, his heart aches just a little bit more. The room is completely empty, save for the table of snacks that are now half eaten. No one is down here. They all left.  _

_ Regina left.  _

_ Sighing, and closing his eyes tightly, trying his best not to cry, he stumbles back into the closet and plops down onto the ground. _

_ He knew this was too good to be true. He’s a nerd, a dork, a loser. All the names Will’s friends had called him all throughout school until he and Will became science partners. Sure, he doesn’t play football. He’d rather play video games and take pictures of stuff around town. Regina used to like that stuff too, but now that she’s popular, he assumes that’s changed. She’s just like the rest of them now.  _

_ He starts rocking back and forth, back bumping the metal shelf behind him. There’s a glittery wreath up there, the one he and Regina had made as kids. It was an old Christmas wreath that his mum didn’t need anymore. They had made it the floral arrangement for their ‘Marriage Day.’ They had covered it in pink and blue glitter, pink for her and blue for him, and hung it in the doorway of his living room before his father had “married” them. They were silly six years olds, what did they know? _

_ Robin looks up at it, scowling as he thinks about how Regina has completely changed. She’s just another mean girl now, making fun of the dweebs in school. He thinks about how being an adult has to be better than this, this can’t be what life is like forever - feeling like you’re the butt of everyone else’s jokes. “I just want to be an adult,” he mumbles. He thinks of his older brother who is in college, and how he has friends who are almost thirty. The few times he’s met them, they’ve seemed so cool. They have jobs and live in the city. They work and hang out together and everyone seems so nice. “I can’t wait to be thirty,” he grumbles, rocking against the shelf a little harder. _

_ The glitter continues to fall from the wreath and onto him but he doesn’t care; he’s too angry to care about anything right now. “I just want to be thirty, I just wanna be thirty, wanna be thirty, thirty, thirty,” he chants to himself, willing the tears away as images of Regina laughing with the other popular kids run through his mind.  _

That’s it! he thinks to himself, it must’ve been the wreath. Somehow? He’s not sure. He’s logical enough to know that couldn’t actually be possible. But it’s the only explanation he has as to why he woke up the day after his thirteenth birthday party as a grown adult. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts when he hears a tune ringing out throughout the apartment. Startled, he stands, trying to find where the music is coming from. He finds a little device, not exactly sure what it is. He flips open the top part of it and hears someone yelling.

It must be like the telephones connected to the walls, just handheld now. He puts it to his ear tentatively, saying, “H-hello?”

“Where the bloody hell are you!?”

The person on the other end goes on and on about how he’s late, and they need to get to their meeting immediately. “I’m standing outside your fucking apartment, and so help me if you’re not up there…”

“Uh, I am,” he stammers, walking toward the bedroom. The man on the other line frantically yells again that they’re late, that he needs to throw on his best suit and get his arse downstairs  _ now _ , and then swiftly hangs up. 

Stunned, and confused, Robin hurries into the closet - a walk in closet, impressive - and thumbs through all the suits. He must have a nice job because there’s a lot of nice pants and jackets and other fancy clothes in there. He thinks there’s a suit in every grown up color just about.

He opts for a dark gray one, it reminds him of his dad, and pairs it with a light blue button up shirt he finds. After finally getting dressed and combing through his hair, he rushes downstairs and out into the windy day.

Robin shivers, not having grabbed a jacket, and is greeted by a tall man holding a car door open. “Would ya get your arse inside?!”

Confused, and a little worried (Mum always said not to talk to strangers, afterall), but assuming this man knows him otherwise he wouldn’t be calling him, he gets inside.

On the ride over, the mystery man briefs him on their meeting, saying they need to make a good impression. They want Apples Magazine to hire them. He learns, through using context clues, that he’s a photographer. That makes him smile at least. He always loved taking pictures, so it’s cool to see he turned a hobby into a career. 

They pull up outside the magazine’s skyscraper, and Robin pauses, taking a deep breath. Apples Magazine has been around since he was a kid; this is a huge deal. “Am I a good photographer?” he asks nervously, tugging at his suit that he’s still not used to wearing.

“Well you’ve been taking pictures with that stupid camera since we were teenagers, so I’d hope so.”

Robin blinks, even more confused now. “We knew each other as teenagers?”

“Ha. Ha,” the man deadpans. “Very funny. We’ve been through this. I was a shit lab partner, I was a right tosser, but I think you becoming my boss has more than made up for it,” he chuckles, slapping Robin on the back.

Lab partner? What… “Will Scarlett?”

The man looks at him as if he’s lost his mind. “Yes?” and then “Man, are you hungover? Are you  _ drunk _ ? Do I need to get you some coffee?”

Robin laughs, a full belly laugh at the irony of the situation before righting himself and clearing his throat. “Mm,” he coughs, trying to tamp down his amusement. “No, no. I’m fine.”

They make their way inside, and he’s thoroughly impressed with the building. Everything is so big and clean; there’s people rushing about, in and out, and it excites him. 

Will hands him a portfolio as they make their way into the elevator. As they ride up to the twenty-third floor, he skims through it, looking at the amazing photographs he’s taken over the years. There’s some black and white photos, some in color, but all very, very well done. He’s impressed by himself. He was always taking pictures with his camera when he was younger, always dreamt of being a world renowned photographer, and now, it seems, he’s achieved that dream to some degree.

Will is talking, but Robin is only half listening, saying something about how the head of the media department saw his work in another magazine and was thoroughly impressed, wanted him to meet with the CEO to discuss a contract to only photograph for their magazine. 

They step out of the elevator, and Will checks in at the front desk. Robin feels overwhelmed, still doesn’t know who that woman was in his apartment this morning, or what in the world is going on at all. He feels hot, but lightheaded, like he might pass out. His ears are ringing but also feel as if someone has stuffed cotton into them. It’s like he’s drowning on dry land somehow.

“You ready?” Will asks, pulling Robin from his daze. 

He nods, following the nice young lady back into a conference room. Will stays behind, claiming he doesn’t have enough clout to make it into the big conference.

Robin licks his lips, not sure even what to say. What pictures do they like? Has he already taken photographs for them or is this a meeting to tell him what to shoot? He’s dizzy, isn’t sure what to do. He’s too young for this. Robin had looked inside his leather wallet on the ride over, smirking when he saw a license (how cool is that?) and a receipt from two nights ago that claimed the year was 2002, making him thirty years old. Being thirty officially sucks, though, when you don’t know what in the world is going on. 

“Mr. Locksley?” he hears, and he shakes his head once more, trying to calm his racing heart. He looks over to the young, blonde girl (Ashley, he vaguely remembers hearing her say moments ago) and nods, assuring her he’s alright.

“Right this way,” Ashley says, pushing open a large, glass door. “She’ll be right with you.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles, still feeling like he has cotton in his ears. Is this what a panic attack feels like? He isn’t sure. He only heard about those from his mum one time (just a few months ago in his mind) when one of her friends had one at the pool one day. 

He looks around the large conference room, eyes scanning over a bulletin board in the front of the room. There’s pictures of a magazine cover and pages from the magazine blown up with empty space, presumably for his photographs to fill in. 

He’s thirsty all of a sudden, has never felt his mouth go so dry in his life. There’s a pitcher of water in the middle of the table, so he reaches out, shakily filling up a glass. He spills a few drops, pinching his eyes closed when he realizes there’s no napkins to clean up his mistake. 

Lifting the glass up to his mouth, he has to calm himself down so the water doesn’t spill out and onto his dress shirt. God, he’s so nervous. What is he even going to say? He knows nothing about this business he apparently owns. 

“Mr. Locksley,” he hears a woman say, a beautiful voice with a rasp to it that he instantly feels connected to. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

He turns, making eye contact with the woman. Suddenly it’s like all the lights have been turned off except a spotlight on her, as if there’s a tunnel connecting him to her and blocking out the rest of the world. He’s stunned, utterly shocked as he stands there, mouth agape, staring into the face of the only girl he’s ever loved. The one who left him for the cool kids yesterday at his birthday party.

Sure, it’s been seventeen years since they technically last saw each other, and man oh man, is she even prettier now. She’s like… a real woman. Grown up, with a body like he’s never seen before. But he’d know that face anywhere, could recognize those deep, chocolate brown eyes at any point in his life. 

“Regina?” he asks, befuddled and shaking his head in disbelief. If he thought he was nervous before, it doesn’t compare to what he’s feeling now. 

Maybe this is fate. Maybe she can help him figure out what the frick ( _ fuck _ , he can say fuck now, he’s an adult) is going on - how did he skip through his entire life to wind up right here with her? The dizziness overwhelms him, and he stumbles back, leaning against the conference table as he breathes deeply, reminding himself to calm down and focus. 

She looks just as dumbfounded as he feels, sounds it too, when she lets out a shakily choked, “Robin?”

{**********************} 

_ I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review and let me know what you think. Part two will be posted tomorrow :) _


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews yesterday on part one! I’m glad y’all liked it. Here is part two... Enjoy! :)
> 
> {************************}

It’s been almost a month since Robin saw Regina in that conference room. Stunned doesn’t even begin to describe what either of them felt. After a beat of silence, she’d broken into a huge grin, embracing him in her arms. 

He’d stumbled through the meeting, admitting he was struggling to remember some details, but she’d chalked it up to an artist working late hours and the emotional rollercoaster of seeing each other after so many years. Regina had hired him that day, having Robin sign a contract with Apples magazine to be their premiere photographer for the next twelve months.

He was elated, overjoyed that his dreams were actually coming true. He was a real photographer and it felt great to be recognized as one. 

Over the past few weeks, he and Regina have been spending more and more time together, rekindling the friendship they once had, and building an attraction he never knew he could feel. He isn’t sure if she feels the same way, but she’s been, what he assumes is, flirting with him the way he’s seen girls do in the movies (and he’s been flirting just as much with her… or trying to, anyway). She sits closer to him now and looks at his lips a lot, which makes him think she wants him to kiss her. God, he hopes so; he wants to desperately. Regina has gone around town with him to snap some pictures, and they’ve found themselves sharing multiple coffees, lunches and even some late night dinners.

During one of their lunches the first week of working together, Robin had admitted to her that he couldn’t remember the last seventeen years when she tried to apologize for how she had treated him in high school.

_ “What?” she asks, brows cinching together. “None of it?” _

_ He shakes his head, sighing. “I woke up last week in this giant apartment, with this woman barking at me that we had dinner plans, and I had no idea who she was or how I got there.” _

_ Regina looks concerned, reaching over to stroke his forearm. She asks again what he remembers, and he bites his lip, looking down sheepishly as he admits, “The last thing I remember is my thirteenth birthday.” _

_ She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes in obvious recognition. Opening them, she blows it out, apologizing again. “Will told me to trick you into the closet so he could get the science project and leave.” _

_ Robin nods solemnly, saying he figured as much when no one came into the closet after so long. He tells her how he’d opened the door to find the basement abandoned and how he’d felt so dejected and hurt. Especially by her. “I thought you were my best friend,” he’d breathed, not wanting her to feel guilty but needing her to know how he’d felt back then. _

_ Her eyes well up with tears as she continues to stroke his arms, sniffling as she says she’s sorry once more. “I let being the newest cool girl consume me. I shouldn’t have done that to you.” _

_ “No, you shouldn’t,” he states seriously. He goes on, telling her how he’d gone back into the closet, full of rage and wishing to be thirty so he could skip over all the drama high school was bound to bring. He shrugs, furrowing his brow as he tries to explain the glitter from their wedding day wreath falling onto him. _

_ She laughs out, covering her mouth before gasping, “Oh my god! Wedding Day!” They share a laugh, his eyes studying her face. She’s gorgeous, and he knows he could stare into those eyes forever and always feel this sense of peace.  _

_ Robin says he’s not sure how but the glitter and his wish to be thirty must have combined and made it all come true. She pulls her hand back from his arm, tilting her head. “Like magic?” _

_ He shrugs again, admitting that he knows it sounds insane. “But there’s no other explanation for it, Regina,” he implores, begging her with his eyes to understand. “How else do you explain me turning thirteen, but waking up thirty?” _

_ Sighing, she asks if she wants her to take him to a hospital - no judgement in her voice, he notes, just complete concern for him. “I’m worried, Robin.” _

_ He refuses, though, saying he didn’t hit his head or anything. After a few more minutes of battling, she finally succumbs to his wishes and relents, saying she won’t take him to the hospital… yet.  _

_ Smiling, they finish their lunch, her filling him in on how she became CEO of the magazine they used to read together as kids and them googling his work to show him exactly what he’s accomplished over the last almost two decades.  _

_ After lunch, Regina declares it a half day and drags him back to her penthouse, claiming they need to refresh his memory of what high school was like (she’s still stuck in the mindset that he simply just has amnesia).  _

_ Walking into her apartment, his jaw drops. It’s enormous, and open, clean and… empty feeling. There’s hardly any pictures or color around the vast expanse. Everything is white or gray. He spots a tiny picture frame on a table in her living room and smiles when he realizes it’s the two of them with their parents on one of their many summer vacations to the lake house. _

_ “I love that picture,” she declares wistfully, smiling over her shoulder at him as she reaches into the top of the closet in the hallway. “Have a seat,” she encourages, pulling the hardback books from the shelf and walking to join him in the living area. _

_ He sits on the black, leather couch, squirming to get comfortable. She sinks to the floor at his feet, placing the books she’s grabbed onto the glass coffee table. “Come,” she beckons, patting the shaggy gray rug beside her. _

_ Grinning, he slinks down, stretching his legs under the table. She curls hers up, sitting on her feet as she reaches to open the first book. “Storybrooke High ‘88,” he reads from the cover. “Oh, God.” He groans, nervous as to what he’ll see, but extremely curious to see what he missed. 1988 would’ve made them juniors, and he can’t even imagine what he would’ve looked like back then. _

_ She giggles softly, patting his leg comfortingly. “Maybe this will help,” she encourages, flipping through the pages. _

_ His eyes scan each page, taking in all the photographs. There’s drama club, beta club, the marching band, all perfectly captured in colorful pictures. On another page, there’s a huge spread of the football team and cheerleaders. Her fingers strum across a teenage Regina, holding her pom poms in one hand while holding the hand of Daniel Colter, quarterback of the team according to the caption, with the other.  _

_ Regina sighs, looking over at him. “I really lost myself to the popularity,” she whispers, looking at him with guilt riddled eyes.  _

_ He shakes his head, promising that it’s okay. He’d never want her to feel bad for making friends and living her life to the fullest.  _

_ “No, it’s not, Robin,” she huffs. She shakes her head, pressing her eyes closed before blinking them back open. “I should’ve been there for you, and I wasn’t. God, I was such a bitch.” _

_ “Hey,” he admonishes, reaching over to touch her arm. “Don’t talk about yourself like that.” _

_ Sighing, she nods silently, flipping through some more pages. They laugh at silly pictures of their old friends, and she tells him funny stories that she can recall. And God, he may have wanted to be thirty more than anything, but in this moment, he wishes he could remember this life.  _

_ Robin reaches up, flipping the next page, and he comes to a stop. There’s a picture of him, slightly blurry, but he’s holding a camera and awkwardly smiling. It’s crazy, seeing himself as a teenager, an age he doesn’t even remember living, but he so very clearly did.  _

_ He’s tall and lanky, can see a few pimples on his face. He has the camera’s strap around his neck and he’s pretending to take a picture of the person taking his photograph. Teenage Robin has a goofy grin on his face, and thirty year old Robin wishes he could remember what was happening in that moment.  _

_ “Bit blurry,” he jokes, chuckling softly, “but it’s nice to see me back then.” _

_ She scoffs in mock offense, “Well, sorry I wasn’t a professional photographer like you were back then.” She smirks over at him, bumping her shoulder into his.  _

_ “You took this?” _

_ She nods, saying the yearbook team wanted pictures of Robin since he took all the others, so she’d grabbed a camera one day and hunted him down. _

_ “Wait,” he says, flipping through a few more pages. “I took  _ all _ of these photos?” _

_ Regina nods once more, saying he took most of them. He was the best photographer in the whole school, and the yearbook staff always took advantage of his talents. “I always knew you’d become a real photographer one day.” _

_ He smiles, eyes shining as he looks down upon one of his first photographic projects. Suddenly, it hits him. This is what they’ve been looking for, this is the rejuvenation Apples Magazine needs. _

_ The print ads have been feeling dated lately, starting to fall the second best behind Wicked Fashions, the latest magazine to sweep the country. “That’s it!” he exclaims, sitting up straighter. _

_ Regina tears her eyes from the yearbook, looking over at him quizzically. “What’s what?” _

_ He points to the book, picking up another one, their senior year, and opening those pages. “This is what the magazine needs,” he explains, as if it’s more than obvious. “It needs this freshness, this vitality.” _

_ Robin continues to flip through the pages, pointing out different photographs and telling Regina how they can spotlight the newest trends while taking it back old school, giving the magazine a trendy, yet nostalgic feel.  _

_ She looks unsure, biting her lip, but he hops up, asking for a piece of paper. Laughing, she stands and fishes one out for him. He draws her up a quick sketch of what it would look like and she beams, finally seeing the vision.  _

_ Wrapping her arms around him in glee, she giggles, kissing his cheek and telling him he’s a genius.  _

That’s how he finds himself here, with Regina, on a breezy, fall day. They’re standing outside a public library, surrounded by models dressed in the latest teenage fashion trends. They’re on a set of bleachers, fans and lights surrounding them as they all pose for Robin’s camera. He nods over to Regina who flips a switch, turning on the largest fan and tossing a handful of fake leaves in front of it. Having each set of photographs represent a different season in the teenagers lives helps showcase how people’s fashion choices can change throughout the year, and the leaves give it a nice touch. 

While snapping his pictures, he hears the most beautiful laugh coming from Regina. Looking up, he can’t help the smile the grows on his face. She’s so beautiful, so carefree lately. She’s really loosened up over the last month, and he can’t help but think he has something to do with it, though he knows she had it in her the whole time. She was just too busy being a business woman that she forgot how to have fun.

She looks over at him, holding down her maroon blazer as it blows in the wind created by the fan. Her hair is blowing forward into her face, but he doesn’t miss the giant smile planted on her lips. Robin doesn’t think she’s ever been more stunning than she is in this moment. 

He stops taking photographs for a second, amazed that this wonderful creature let him into her life once again. They’ve grown closer than he had ever imagined over the last four weeks, a certain type of tension rising between them when he told her he’d broken up with Marian (the woman who, he discovered that first night, was his girlfriend). 

They’ve been, what he assumes is, flirting ever since then. He wants to kiss Regina, aches to do so, but it never seems right. They’re always working when they’re together, or the moment never seems appropriate. She’s the only person he’s ever kissed, but they were six years old when it happened. He hasn’t kissed anyone since then (that he can remember anyway), so he’s nervous to let his guard down and try. What if she doesn’t want him to and he’s been reading too much into this? 

Shifting his camera away from the models and over to her, he snaps a picture, wanting to memorize her just like this. Robin grins at her before looking back at the throngs of models gearing up for their next pose. Sighing, he looks into his camera to take another shot. All he knows is that being an adult is confusing. 

{**************************}

Later that night, once he’s shot the fall and spring collection for the upcoming spread, he and Regina go to dinner. 

While there, they talk about the magazine and she tells him how she feels really good about this idea, hoping it puts Zelena Weston and her Wicked magazine to shame when the newest issue hits stands next month. 

They spend a good amount of time reminiscing on the parts of their childhood he remembers - slumber parties, vacationing with their families, summer nights eating Razzles, “The best candy  _ ever _ !” Regina exclaims, causing him to laugh.

They discuss the photographs from earlier, him pulling out his small camera and passing it over to her. She smiles softly down at the screen, flipping through the shots. “They’re beautiful.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, caught by her beauty once more when he looks across the table. The glow of the candlelight casts a warm hue against her olive skin, and all he wants to do is slide his chair over to her and kiss her senseless. God, his stomach is in knots. He has always liked her, always wanted to be more once he got to the age where dating wasn’t as gross of a concept, but now, as an adult, it’s all he can think of. 

They’re meant to be together, have to be. There’s no other explanation as to why he found her after all this time. Why their paths, out of everyone he’s ever known, crossed once again. It’s like they were meant to find each other.

He clears his throat, pulling himself from his perusal of her face and his feelings, he signs the check, asking her if she’s ready to go.

She smiles, lifting her eyes to meet his blue ones. Handing him his camera back, she nods, but adds with a devious smirk, “But now that you mentioned Razzles, we  _ have _ to find some!”

Chuckling out a breathy laugh, he agrees, saying he thinks a corner store a few blocks away might have them. 

They stand, Regina looping her arm through his as they make their way out of the restaurant and down the street.

It’s a cool evening, his jacket providing just enough warmth, but her body pressed to his side warms him to the depths of his soul. 

They check the little market he told her about, and sure enough, they have a whole box of Razzles. Ecstatic, they pay like giddy school kids, and make their way to the nearest park. 

“I can’t believe they had them!” Regina exclaims gleefully, ripping the small bag open as they make their way to the swings. “Remember, they’re both a candy and a gum.”

Snorting, Robin nods, saying, “Now that  _ is _ something I remember.”

She gives him a sympathetic look, but continues on, pulling his hand up to drop some Razzles into his palm before doing the same to her own. 

They pop the candies into their mouths, the top layer melting in his mouth as the gum comes to the surface. 

Chuckling softly, they stand in front of the swings, enjoying the feel of acting like kids again. Regina climbs onto the closest swing and after a beat of silence, Robin’s eyes sparkle as he looks down to her, asking, “Hey, Regina, what color is my tongue?”

He sticks his tongue out, the corners of his mouth turning up into a grin. He can feel his dimples deepening as she looks up at him confusedly. “What?”

Sighing in mock exasperation, his shoulder slump and he brings his tongue back in his mouth. “What color is my tongue?” he inquires again, sticking it out once more. 

“Red?” she says hesitantly, looking at him as if he’s lost his mind.

“Red, red or Razzle red?” He pokes his tongue out once more, trying his hardest to keep his laughter inside. He remembers as kids they would examine each other’s tongues, making sure they had successfully turned a deep shade of red due to the candy’s colorful coating. 

She confirms with a chortle, “Razzle red,” and shakes her head at his antics. Regina slowly begins to swing, tilting her head back to look at the stars.

“Show me yours.”

Snorting, she looks back to him. “I’m not showing you my tongue, Robin.”

“Come on,” he begs, slinking into the swing next to hers. “I showed you mine; show me yours.”

She laughs, claiming she didn’t  _ ask _ to see his tongue, he just showed it to her anyway. He declares in all the seriousness he can muster in this moment that he  _ needs _ to see her tongue, and after a few more good natured eye rolls and more declarations of  _ I’m not showing you my tongue _ , she finally sticks her out - briefly, but she does - before pulling it back in and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear like she always did when she was nervous. 

He laughs, nodding, and stating, “Razzle red,” with a satisfied smile on his lips.

Rolling her eyes once more, she reaches over, taking the chain of his swing in her palm and gently swaying them. They listen to the crickets for a while, admiring the beauty of the park surrounding them. “Can I tell you something?” she asks, looking over at him.

His eyes meet hers as he gives her a nod, silently encouraging her to continue. 

Her eyes soften as she murmurs for just him to hear, despite there being no one else around, “You’re my best friend.” He beams, and she informs him that he always was, no matter how awful she was to him. They didn’t talk, or even hang out, but she always considered him the closest friend she ever had. Regina sighs, telling him that the past few weeks have been amazing getting to know each other again. 

“You wanna know a secret?” he asks, looking over at her when she finishes her compliments. The moonlight is shining on her perfectly so he can see the gleam in her eye when she says that she does. “You’re the nicest girl I’ve ever known.”

He sounds so innocent saying it, he knows he does, but damn it, he’s still just a kid at heart, and he truly means it. Regina has been a gift to him this last month, helping him learn his way through adult life, and she’s been nothing but patient with him. 

She rolls her eyes, saying that completely isn’t true. Not after how she treated him as teenagers.

He shrugs, saying none of that matters now. She means so much to him and he’s so glad they found each other again. There’s that tension in the air again as she looks at him with sad, curious eyes. She goes to speak, moving her swing closer to his, but she stops, looking like she changes her mind. Regina breaks the moment by pushing her swing back to her side and claiming, “Bet I could still beat you at the jump,” she says, nodding toward the grassy area in front of the swings.

He smirks, thinking on all the times as kids that they would race to see who could jump the furthest off the swings. It was how he broke his arm when they were nine and she scraped her knee at six. But it was tradition, so he pumps his legs harder to gain more momentum, exclaiming, “Bet you can’t!”

They laugh, pumping their legs vigorously and talking smack to each other, each claiming they’re going to be the winner. “Whoever goes the farthest owes the other a drink,” Regina says, gearing up to jump.

“A chocolate milkshake,” he corrects with a laugh.

“Oh, ho, you’re upping the stakes!” she jests back, agreeing to his terms. “And dinner Friday night at Granny’s to celebrate the launch of your photographs.”

He grins over at her, agreeing with a  _ Deal. _

“One…” he says, laughter bubbling up inside of him. “Two…” she chuckles. “Three!” they both shout as they jump from their swings. 

Neither one can contain their boisterous laughter as they land with a hard _thud_ into the grass. Regina rolls, guffawing as she lands against his chest. She says she should’ve tucked and rolled as she sweeps at her jean clad rear, the black blouse she’d worn today covered in grass particles as well. 

“I’m getting old,” Robin grunts, reaching up to remove a piece of grass from her hair and tucking the strand behind her head. He cups her cheek, looking up at her lovingly. 

“You’re not getting old,” she smiles down at him, placing her hand to his solid chest, “because that means so am I.”

She rolls off of him then and onto her back with a groan, the grass beneath them cooling their skin. He rolls too, placing his hands on either side of her body to help push him up as he goes to stand, but she stops him, his body hovering over her in mid air. 

“Hey,” she says genty, looking up into his eyes. “I’ve really enjoyed today. The past month, really.”

He tilts his head, not sure where that came from, but beaming nonetheless. “It’s been wonderful,” he says lowly, lowering his body just a touch closer to hers. 

She stares up into his face, tongue peeking out to wet her lips and his eyes are immediately drawn to them. The plump, pouty lips he’s been seeing in his dreams lately. 

Finding the courage from deep within, Robin leans down, pressing his lips to hers. They lay there, him on top of her in the grass, lips mingling together. A moan vibrates from the back of her throat and he just about melts. Having her here with him like this is all he’s ever wanted. 

Sliding his lips against hers for a few moments longer, he sighs into the kiss. Pulling back, he bumps his nose to hers before trailing it down the length of her nose. 

She scrunches her nose in that adorable way she does before sighing and sliding out from underneath him. He sits up, biting his bottom lip to tame the wide smile that is clawing its way out. 

“That was…” he starts, but before he can say anything else, she’s scooting closer, capturing his lips again with hers. 

It’s a perfect end to the evening, and he hopes when tomorrow rolls around, he gets the chance to kiss her again.

{***********************}

His alarm goes off the next morning, and as he turns over, trying to find his phone to silence it, the smell of bacon hits his senses.

Confused, he sits up. He looks around, the solid navy comforter of the bed in his apartment is now gone, replaced with a green and blue checkered one. One he recognizes. 

His head whips up, seeing that he’s no longer in his big city apartment, but back home in Storybrooke. His wooden dresser is just as he remembers it, stashed full of t-ball trophies and his camera. The closet door is closed, but there’s still a  _ Wham! _ poster hanging on the outside of it.

Oh, shit. Is he thirteen again? He clambers out of bed quickly, scurrying over to the mirror attached atop his dresser.

Looking into it, he runs his hands over his jaw, feeling the scruff that is still there, and sighs a breath of relief. He’s still the handsome, grown up he was yesterday. But how did he get here? In his parents’ house?

“Robin, honey?” he hears his mom’s sweet voice call.

Turning on his heel, he sees her walking into the room, tray full of food. “Mum, what’s going on?”

She smiles brightly at him, setting the tray down on the top of the dresser carefully before taking his shoulders in her hands. She’s aged, her beautiful face full of wrinkles now, and he can’t believe it. He’d been meaning to come home the past month, but had been too busy working with Regina. He feels bad now, though, looking into her blue eyes, the ones he inherited from her.

He loves his mother, has always been a mama’s boy, and he suddenly wants to wrap his arms around her and squeeze her tightly. She seems to read his mind as she wraps her arms around him, bringing him closer. Robin breathes her in, the scent of her Oscar de la Renta perfume the same as it’s been his whole life. He’s so puzzled as to what is going on. 

“It’s time to get ready,” she murmurs, pulling back to place a kiss to his cheek.

He furrows his brow and shakes his head in bewilderment. “Ready for what?”

His mother beams, shrugging her shoulders up as she giddily declares, “For the rest of your life!”

She turns and opens the closet, stepping in and pulling out a black tuxedo. She hands it to him, telling him he better hurry, before she kisses him once more and exits the room, telling him how proud of him she is. 

Taking a deep breath, Robin walks to the window when he hears voices. He can see people hustling and bustling about down there. There’s strangers carrying flower arrangements and seat covers to the backyard of Regina’s house. 

Regina. Shit. 

He grabs his phone, checking to see if he has any missed messages. Seeing he has none, he walks back over to the window and peers across once more to the Mills’ residence. 

The window across from his is Regina’s; they spent many nights as children talking over aluminum can telephones to each other, connected by a string spanning from his window to hers. He laughs at the memory, looking up to catch a glimpse of her. 

She’s standing there in front of the window in a white, silk robe, surrounded by her mother and some other women he can’t quite make out. Her hair is pulled up into an elegant updo and one of the women is applying makeup to her face.

He watches her, amazed once again at her effortless beauty. Before he can stare too long, his mother calls up to him again, reminding him to eat and get dressed. 

Pulling himself away from the window, he plops down on the mattress, scooping up a piece of bacon and munching on the hearty breakfast his mum had fixed him.

Half an hour later, with a full belly and a sharp suit on, he makes his way downstairs. His father and mother are both waiting, dressed up quite nicely, and he spots tears in his mum’s eyes. 

“I’m just so happy for you,” he cries, wrapping him in a warm hug once more. 

His father claps him on the back, giving him a proud nod before they make their way across the yard to Regina’s house. 

The backyard is decorated, an archway at the end of a white, fabric aisle covered in elegant white flowers and beautiful greenery surround it. The chairs are all lined up, and as if it hadn’t occurred to him yet, he just now puts all the pieces together. There is a wedding happening today. His wedding, apparently. 

As he stands in front of the arch, watching as Regina walks down in a gorgeous, ivory mermaid gown covered in lace, he can’t control the tears that swell in his eyes. 

She makes her way to him, whispering sweetly that they finally got their real ‘Wedding Day’, and he chuckles wetly, nodding and agreeing. 

They exchange vows and sweet words, a kiss full of all the love they feel for each other is shared and it’s official. They are now Mr. and Mrs. Locksley. 

As they make their way, hand in hand through the front door of her house, time suddenly flashes before his eyes and they’re standing, now dressed in casual clothes in front of a newly purchased brick home. 

The couch is still in the front yard, waiting to be moved, and Robin sits down, resting his feet. They’ve been moving all morning and he’s exhausted. Regina joins him, flopping onto it and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. 

She hands him a photo album with a grin on her face, and he questions her as to what it is. 

Giving him a suspicious shrug, he flips through, seeing pictures from high school. “Just wanted to take a walk down memory lane,” she tells him, peppering kisses to his cheek. These pictures, however, are completely different than the ones he remembers seeing in the yearbook back in her penthouse. The photographs tell a completely different story. 

There’s one of a teenage Robin and Regina, arms wrapped around each other as he attempts to take their picture. He laughs, questioning who took that one, and she giggles back, saying she’s not quite sure but, “I assume Emma or Kathryn did.”

And suddenly it comes back to him. His thirteenth birthday and how Will asked Regina to trick him into the closet. She couldn’t do it, though, refusing to fool her best friend. She stood up to the guys that day, and as they left with their tails between their legs, Regina and the girls stayed behind to dance to Michael Jackson and eat birthday cake with him. It was one of the greatest birthdays he ever had.

He remembers going to high school, still unsure of where he fit in, but having the head cheerleader as his girlfriend helped. The school photographer and most popular cheerleader were an odd combination, but once people got to know the high school sweethearts, there was no denying that they were perfect for each other.

Regina is still CEO of Apples magazine, and his contract is still holding strong; he’s now head photographer for the magazine, leading a small group of other artists into capturing the essence of his wife’s magazine and loving every minute of it. He asks her about his missing memories, how he couldn’t remember the last seventeen years, and she just shakes her head at him, saying, “I think the exertion from moving all day has muddled your brain.” She leans in, placing a kiss to his lips before giggling at him, claiming they’d left high school and gone to college, mastering their field of study and moving to the city together. “You know the rest, Robin,” she laughs, not sure why he’s so confused about their life.

“Humor me,” he says, kissing the top of her head. Bewildered how he got here, but loving the fact that he can kiss her whenever he wants now. 

Regina sighs in mock exasperation, informing him of their lives. How after moving to the city, she’d started working at Apples and worked her way up to CEO. He started his photography business and did very well for himself before joining her team at the magazine.

He sighs, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and bringing her into his side. His mind is a jumbled mess, and he isn’t quite sure how to explain it all - doesn’t know where the last three years have gone either. Maybe that kiss in the park reset everything and put it how it should have been. Either way, all he knows is this is exactly where he’s meant to be. With Regina by his side and a heart full of love. 

{************************}

_ There you have it! I hope y’all enjoyed this second part and the little twist I put on the end that’s different from the movie. I had a lot of fun turning this movie into OQ and making Robin the one who woke up thirty! Please leave a review and let me know what you thought. :) _


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